Ascending into Darkness
by DarthObsydian
Summary: How is it that the greatest Sith Lord to ever enter the universe could rise to power? What went on when Plagueis's eyes were not upon him? How would his dynasty survive? Read and find out, from the Massacre of House Palpatine to the Empire's rising, what drove Palpatine onward and what created the living, breathing, shadow...
1. Chapter 1

_**Ascending into Darkness**_

**Part One: Chapter One**

_"Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it." - _Pratchett

**65 Years BBY**

Intoxicated laughter mingled with the slurred promises of politicians and royals alike as the drink did its job, adding courage to the otherwise timid and vocalization to beliefs that, under a sober mind, would have been kept silent. Palpatine struggled to repress his feelings of utter disgust at the blubbering idiots in charge of governing the small world of Naboo. In his opinion, none possessed the presence of mind to correctly lead their underwear to their bottoms, let alone lead a planet to the future.

His father, of course, sat on the throne of incapability and tonight he wore his crown shamelessly as he drug his son through the thick throng of nobles, greeting each one and- to the disgruntlement of many of his guests- encouraging the young Palpatine to do the same. No doubt this was yet another attempt to smooth over the latest embarrassment of his sons near expulsion from the university.

_Pathetic._ As if any of those men would ever accept Cosinga's have thought out excuses and weak bribery as the truth. The younger Palpatine would never meet expectations, no matter how many credits his father threw out to assure otherwise.

As if finally catching on to the displeasure of the others, the senior Palpatine pulled his son to the corner of the parlor, returning nods and smiles all the while. When the two were far enough away that he needn't fear being overheard, he dropped the façade and let his truer, colder nature seep through. "You've served your purpose for tonight. It's time for you to go."

Palpatine smirked, "Go? This is _my_ home as well father."

"I just bought you a new speeder. Why don't you make use of it," Cosinga said, pausing to shake the hand of the director of Theed's Festival of Arts.

"There's nowhere to go," Palpatine exhaled, impatiently. "How about this: I stay right here and meander about the room, keeping to myself, refusing to speak with any of your cronies."

Cosinga glared down at his son, his teeth grinding as he fought back the words pressing at his lips. "Fine," he resigned. "But if I hear even the slightest whisper that you've stirred up trouble, I swear I will-"

"Why, hello Governor! It is a pleasure to see you this evening." The young Palpatine said with a nod. His smile stayed firmly in place as he turned his attention back to his father, who was now a deep shade of crimson. "Now, what is it that you were saying father? I was distracted."

"We'll discuss it later," he said, fuming. He shot Palpatine a look that said it was time to disappear and, not a second later, the benevolent mask of the night's host was set in place once more. Palpatine gave another nod to Veruna, and then turned away to melt into the shadows, smiling inwardly at his own private success.

***X*x*X*x*X*x***

The music thrummed and the lights from the Zero G dance floor flashed and, as the night wore on, bodies pressed closer together, making Palpatine wish he had opted to leave when he had the chance. The hired entertainment his father had purchased for this evening was provided by one of the chief entertainment advisers of Ryloth. As such, the "escorts" of the evening were comprised of an odd assortment of Twi'leks, scantily clad in costumes that would almost make the cantina dancers on Mos Eisley blush.

_So much for a quaint, sophisticated gathering_, Palpatine thought.

He smiled and accepted a drink from one of the servants' platters and sipped while he searched through the crowd for a point of interest. The dancers on the stage had turned into thespians, which were now reenacting some exaggerated tale of the life of one of Naboo heroes. The show was bland; no artistic flare had been added to enrich the fabricated romance or to stimulate the nonexistent action into a suitable substitute for a climax. None of the actors had any skill, each slipping out of character more often than they were in it, breaking the illusion and making it impossible to decipher exactly who was who in the maelstrom of theatrical debauchery.

Obviously the rest of the crowd was either too bland to catch on or too drunk to care, for every few seconds a great applause would fill the room followed by whistles and cries for an encore.

Palpatine was about to slip out to the balcony, when the space around him grew quiet. Confused, he turned back to the stage, in hopes that one of the low budget actors had fallen and broken something- preferably his neck- when his eyes caught the source of wonder. The scene had changed to portray the legendary meeting between Kwilaan and his bride, who was one of the few humans on Naboo at the end of the Sith Civil War, and who helped Kwilaan to colonize the planet, turning it in to the haven of art and culture that it was known for today.

The bride of Kwilaan, or rather the woman who portrayed her, was not one of exceptional beauty, but rather the holder of a gentle grace that at that moment had captivated the minds of all within sight. She moved around him with slow, even steps. Twirling, her hands above her head, eyes closed, seemingly entranced by the beating of the Karmova drum.

The crowd leaned in closer, perhaps surprised at the sudden twist in the story, or perhaps they were entranced by something else all together, either way Palpatine was impressed. Not so much by her performance, which, he had to admit, was extraordinary, but by the solid, constant pulse of something just beneath her skin.

It was power. The very same power that he himself possessed. The very power he knew that he could conjure.

Did she know? Palpatine made it a point to find out. He was pulled from his inner musings by the wild cheers of the guests, signaling the songs end and Palpatine found himself clapping along with the rest as he looked up at the two embracing lovers as they split apart and took their bows, catching the credits thrown their way in a large Toydarian sun hat.

His eyes followed the woman as she made her way to the back of the room just as the music picked back up and the dancers resumed their places on the dance floor, encouraging the younger politicians- or older, it really made no difference- to discard their dates and join them for some fun. Palpatine pushed his way to the archway where he saw her disappear. He noticed his father walking his way, surrounded by three of his most loyal conspirators and Palpatine swiftly turned and did his best to remain hidden by the shadows, hugging the wall.

The reason for his secrecy was all-in-all a mystery to him, but something deep within told the young Palpatine that he should proceed with caution. He had never been the patient type, but he was determined to sit and wait this woman out- provided that she didn't take too long.

Palpatine was just on the verge of bursting through the arch door when he finally saw her reappear into the central room, changed into the clothing of a Naboo commoner.

_I guess her shift is over. _Palpatine was searching his mind for the proper way to approach her when the woman abruptly turned from the drink table and joined a large, brooding figure by the balcony door.

Palpatine took a moment to examine the man- a pale, bald, human with dark eyes and jagged black markings along scarred lips. His features softened somewhat when the woman approached, but the tension returned immediately when she pointed in the direction Cosinga and his allies had gone, mouthing something that Palpatine could not understand. The man nodded once and then headed off in the direction she had indicated, leaving the woman alone once more.

She looked around, and then slipped out the door overlooking the lake. Palpatine cast one last glance in the direction the muscle man had gone, and then he straightened his collar and went to find the lady whose blood coursed with power.

***X*x*X*x*X*x***

"I thought you would be heading this way," the woman said, not bothering to look over her shoulder. The wind had picked up, and Palpatine crossed his arms in an effort to stifle the chill he had acquired.

"I beg pardon," the young royal said, leaning against the railing beside her.

She turned to face him. "I saw you watching me."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "Or, rather, I felt you." Palpatine watched as she turned back to view the lake. "It was… unsettling."

Palpatine hid his smile well, as he unfolded his arms, and looked out at the churning of the water below as it struggled against the winds of the coming storm. "Is that so," he said. "In that case I offer you my sincerest apologies, I meant no harm."

"And yet you followed me out here, knowing that I would be alone and defenseless."

"You just said yourself that you knew I would be coming," he said. "If that is the case, then you would have had enough time to protect yourself against any unwanted advances."

"Yes, I know." She looked at him from the corner of her eye. "But _you_ didn't. Which brings me to my first question: what is it you want?"

"You're name, for starters."

The woman paused, as if taken off guard. Palpatine noticed for the first time that she had been clutching something inside the pocket of her cloak. He narrowed his eyes, scorning himself for being so careless. _Now _that's _unsettling_, he thought.

"Myrah," she said. "And yours?"

"Palpatine."

Myrah looked shocked. "As in Cosinga Palpatine, the one who hired my troupe for the evening?"

Palpatine did not bother masking his disgust. "Hardly. I am his son."

The woman relaxed slightly, but he still noticed a bit of tension in the way she moved to face him fully. "I am sorry, but I think I should be going. It's not my practice to mingle with the paying guests. Otherwise the virtue behind my achieved success might be questioned, which would be very upsetting to me and my agent." She moved to step around him. "If you will excuse me…"

Palpatine surprised even himself with the speed in which his hand caught Myrah's arm. Her eyes grew wide and she opened her mouth to protest, but the young Palpatine released his grasp and bowed his head, displaying what he hoped passed for genuine embarrassment.

"Please, I…" he stammered, hunting for the right code of words. "Don't go," he said at last, straightening to his full height. "I give you my word that if any scandal comes from this meeting, I have the credits, as well as the influence, to make it go away."

She hesitated for a moment, then nodding at someone inside, Myrah returned to her place on the railing. Palpatine frowned, looking through the break in the curtain, and was displeased to find that the pale man from before was standing, back against the wall, with his eyes trained on the balcony door.

"You don't trust me," he stated.

"Not yet."

He smirked, not surprised. Palpatine attempted to peer into the mind of the young entertainer, but was taken aback when he hit a barrier head on.

_So, she really does have some power after all._

"You had another question."

He blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"You asked my name, 'for starters'. What else is it, within reason, you wanted to know?"

"Ah," Palpatine said, placing a finger on the cleft of his chin. "Well, who is that enormous gentleman you keep motioning to?"

He saw her shoulders loosen as a tiny smile crept across her face. "Tobias."

Palpatine nodded. "Your lover?"

"No," Myrah said, shaking her head. "My partner." She paused for a moment, as if considering something, then, "my friend."

"Does he perform as well?"

"Not exactly."

"Then how is it you two work together?"

"Another job."

"And that is?"

Myrah cut her eyes at him, then returned her gaze back to the water again. "That is irrelevant."

"Forgive me." There was a moment of awkward shuffling as Palpatine worked through the proper way to approach this woman. In the end, he resorted to his most potent weapon: flattery.

"You danced beautifully up there. I don't mean to sound rash, but I couldn't take my eyes off you." He chuckled, softly, figuring that he sounded sincere enough. "But, of course, you knew that already."

"Thank you," she said. "I take the compliment to heart; I was not born a dancer." She paused. "As a matter of fact, it has only been within the past couple of years that I have acquired any sense of rhythm at all, let alone skill."

Palpatine's surprise was genuine. "I never would have guessed. You were brilliant." It was dark, but if he had to guess, Palpatine would say that the woman was blushing. "I can tell you love what you do."

"Well, it keeps me fed." There was another moment of silence; however, the stiffness in the air was starting to dissolve. "What about you? I'm not too familiar with Naboo customs, but do you work?"

"No, I am not employed. Being a member of Naboo's nobility, I have little want for money. Also, it is our custom that from the ages of twelve and twenty, that we must be involved in the Legislative Youth Program. I have three more years of involvement in the organization, after that, I will choose a career path."

"What is it that you wish to do?"

"Speeder racing," Palpatine said.

When he did not join in her laugher, the woman bowed her head and nodded, thoughtfully. "That sounds exciting. I've always been too scared to drive a speeder, let alone race one. I applaud you for that much."

"Have you ever visited Naboo before?"

"No, I have not. But I wish that I had; it's beautiful here. Also, my other job requires me to know a great deal about the landscape of the area, but I'm afraid I am clueless to my surroundings."

"I can show you around, if you'd like," Palpatine said. _And you can show me to what extent your powers flow, not to mention explain to me why your partner had his eyes set on my father._

Myrah looked at him and from the dim light of the cloud covered moons and he noticed that her eyes were the same pale blue as his own. "I would like that, actually. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

The woman gave him a look that Palpatine read as cautiousness mingled with curiosity. "Palpatine," she said. "That is only the cognomen. If I may ask, what is your first name?"

Palpatine sighed and, feigning distress, turned morosely to look out at the now still waters below. "That is irrelevant," he said.

Myrah laughed out loud. "Will your identity forever be a mystery?"

"Will yours," the young royal said, a brow raised.

Myrah nodded, "We shall see what the future holds."

"So we shall."

The woman had opened her mouth to speak when the balcony's door slammed open and, in the threshold, stood a much taller, older, and angrier version of Palpatine himself.

"To your quarters," Cosinga barked. "Now." The senior Palpatine's eyes moved from the actress to his son and his skin turned redder as he prepared a verbal tirade. The younger Palpatine squared his shoulders, ready to strike back when from behind his father stepped a fairly attractive, blue skinned Twi'lek male.

"Excuse me sir," he said in fluent basic. "But if you don't mind, I must remove Myrah from your presence. She is needed for the night's clean-up."

Cosinga, nodded curtly, and moved aside to allow the woman to sweep past, after which she was pulled away by the arm and disappeared again into the dissipating crowd. Cosinga's eyes found his son once more and, when he did, his hands balled into fists. Anger surged through him, the likes of which required all his discipline not to strike his eldest, then and there.

"Your quarters," he repeated. "And stay there."

***X*x*X*x*X*x***

Palpatine sat in front of the floor length window in his private room, his back against the wall, arms folded, with his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He was watching the night's entertainers load their equipment in the back of a large travel taxi. Palpatine felt, more than saw, the young woman from that evening. Due to the strength of her psychic barriers, Palpatine was unable to send any real message. Therefore, he compensated and lowered his own natural defenses, in hopes that she would notice his skyward presence.

Sure enough, a moment later he saw one of the figures pause, then look up in the direction of his chamber window. Palpatine lifted his hand splayed his fingers in what could pass as a wave. He couldn't be entirely certain, but he believed she did the same.

Outside his door he heard the distinct clamor of his father's boots storming in his direction. Palpatine stood, slowly, and went to seat himself on the edge of the bed. As he predicted, not a full minute passed until his door was thrown open and Cosinga entered, following close behind by Palpatine's timid, brainless mother, who other than his red hair, Palpatine owed nothing.

"I thought we had agreed that tonight you were to become a shadow."

Palpatine's face flushed in anger. "I stayed away from your precious assistants," he said.

"Who was that woman you were speaking to," Cosinga demanded.

"The woman who portrayed lady Kwilaan," Palpatine said, letting his irritation show. "What is it to you?"

"Have you spoken with her before tonight," his father said, ignoring his son's question."

"No." _Now, I'm curious. _

"What about any of her colleagues? Any one she is familiar with?"

"No," Palpatine said. _What are you hiding?_

His father seemed to relax a little, but the anger had not yet abated. "It would be in your best interest, if I never find out otherwise."

With that, the elder Palpatine swiftly turned and left his son's chamber, nearly knocking his small wife down in his rush to exit. Palpatine vocalized his disgust with a barely disguised scoff, and then he kicked off his boots, and pulled his tunic over his head, throwing it on the floor before pulling his covers back and settling in to bed.

He watched for a moment as his mother looked from the door, then to her son, and then back to the door again before he finally said, "Go follow him mother. You know you always will."

His mother looked at him and, for the briefest of moments, he thought her afraid. "You know your father..." she began.

"Spare me the scripted condolences. You've never cared anything for my welfare, no different than your husband." Palpatine leaned back onto his pillow, crossing his arms behind his head. "Now, go tend to your other children. I'm sure my little brothers and sisters are ready for bed."

He watched the elder woman stiffen her lip and nod curtly as she left his room. Palpatine lifted a hand over his bedside sensor and the door closed automatically. He sat there for a long while, fuming, before removing one of the antique vases from the shelf above his bed and, with all the strength he could muster, hurled it at the closed door, imagining the shattered pieces of glass to be the broken bones of his cold hearted father.

One of the cleaning droids rolled into the room, moving and sweeping up the mess until Palpatine threw another vase, which smashed against the little droid's head. The droid whirled around, beeped agitatedly, did one last sweep, and then flew out of the room, chirping all the while.

Palpatine sighed, extinguished the light, and then lay down, surrendering himself to the dark embrace of his dreams.

***X*x*X*x*X*x***

_Frozen._

_His heart beat dangerously slow, the feat of survival too much effort to pursue. Palpatine fell to the ground. Warm copper filled his mouth. He spit it onto his hands rubbing them together in hopes of nurturing the frost bite. _

_It was then that he realized it was blood. _

_Above him came the deep, guttural laughter of a living, breathing shadow._

_The likes of which Palpatine could never be. _

_The shadow possessed power. Radiated power. _

_The likes of which Palpatine could never have._

_He heard crackling, smelled the stench of burning flesh. _

_His world became fire. Cold fire. Icy flames. _

_He saw blue. Then yellow._

_Yellow eyes._

_He saw yellow eyes. _

_Then he saw nothing._

Palpatine awoke, trembling. His hair plastered to his forehead. He looked at the clock, rolled his eyes, and then fell back asleep. That was why he hated dreams.

***X*x*X*x*X*x***

Palpatine had not spoken to the woman since his father's gathering for the nobles at the Lake House three days prior, but something was telling him that today would be the day that they would meet again, and with any luck, he would discover more about the power lurking within and just how similar it was to his own.

He was finishing up his conversation with his mentor, Vidar Kim. The two walked through the square, somewhat rushed for time as Kim had been recalled to the senate just that morning.

Palpatine could not shake the feeling that he was being watched. He made sure to nod and acknowledge what Kim was saying at the appropriate junctures, but his eyes continually scanned the crowd in the square for the source of his discomfort. _I guess this is what that actress was talking about._

Eventually Kim and Palpatine said their goodbyes and after watching the elder man make his way to the taxi that would take him to Naboo's space port, he turned to see a tall, lanky Muun whom he immediately identified as Magister Hego Damask approaching, less than a meter away.

_I don't have time for this, _Palpatine thought as he turned sharply and headed the opposite way to the square's exit.

"Young human," he heard the Muun call after him, sounding closer than before. Palpatine sped up, determined to reach his speeder before he had to exchange pleasantries with the likes of this creature.

"Palpatine!"

Palpatine slowed his stride until he had, despite his better instincts, come to a stop just meters from the stone arch of the square. The youth sighed and, reluctantly, turned to face him.

"How do you know my name?"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Well there you have it! The first chapter to a rather extensive story that has been pressing on my mind for years.  
Some of you may notice that the last segment has been taken, in part, form the novel _Darth Plagueis_.**

_**What does this mean?  
**_**It means that through the course of this story we will get a deeper insight into the life of young Palpatine and, hopefully, some possible answers will be received to the questions that plague us. (No pun intended.)**

**What went on during those 11 years of apprenticeship? What was his relationship _really_ like with his family, before the Massacre of House Palpatine? What was his given name before he cast it aside?  
The list goes on and on and on...**

**I hope you enjoyed reading this half as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
The adventure is far from over, so if I may, I invite you to hope along for the ride and I promise, I will always strive not to dissappoint you!**

**Feel free to drop a REVIEW. It is much appreciated it helps to push things along!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Ascending into Darkness**_

**Part One: Chapter Two**

"What is this," Myrah asked, reaching out to the aurodium coin hanging around Palpatine's rearview mirror.

"A gift," Palpatine said as he weaved his way through the thick crowd of pedestrians in Theed's main plaza. "From Hego Damask."

Myrah jerked her hand back upon hearing the name, a maneuver that Palpatine would make sure to remark upon later.

"It's… lovely," she said, regaining her composure.

"Thank you."

After his walk with the Magister, Palpatine had found the woman sitting by Theed's central fountain, surrounded by various maps of Naboo. He had pulled his speeder in front of her and shouted over the the engine that the offer of a tour still stood. She had accepted, graciously, and now, three hours later, the two were still journeying from city to city, Myrah making notes all the while.

Several long moments of silence had passed when Myrah spoke up to say, "You still haven't given me your name."

Palpatine smirked. "You're very perceptive."

"I want to know more about you." Palpatine glanced at her and noted the playful nature of her smile. "After all, it's dangerous to accept rides from strangers."

"It's a little late for that," Palpatine said. "But, you make a valid point; I'll play along." He made a hard left, taking a road that led out of the main traffic. "Ask away."

"What's your favorite color?"

Palpatine's jaw dropped a bit. "My favorite wha…" he said, then shook his head, a grin appearing in the corner of his mouth. "It's red. Or at least that's the color that comes to mind."

Myrah nodded. "I see. What's your favorite food?"

"Shaak in the winter, but that goes the same for most all Naboo." Palpatine paused, thought for a moment, and then said, "I'm also quite fond of pears."

"Is that so," Myrah said.

"Oh yes. Sweet, tangy, and all together delicious." He shifted in his seat. "Now, I don't mean to be rude, but are your questions ever going to leak into something more than trivial?"

"I thought I would start out slow."

"Now," the young royal said, his gray eyes shining. "Where's the fun in that?"

"If you say so." She paused. "Tell me about when you were younger."

Palpatine pursed his lips. "In what way?"

"Start with the basics I suppose… " Myrah thought for a moment. "Where did you attend school?"

Palpatine did not speak for some time and, when he did, his voice was void of feeling, as if he recounted the tale not from his own memory, but from some ancient text read long ago.

"When I was four years old my father prematurely enrolled me in one of Naboo's finest academies, in hopes of giving me a two year advantage over my 'competitors'."

"Your competitors?"

"Any other child my age. My classmates."

"Oh."

Palpatine smirked. "You see, in my father's mind, the other children weren't simply playmates, rather they were opponents, and I was to view them as obstacles in the path to my destiny."

"That sounds a bit… harsh, don't you think? Telling that to your toddling son."

"Possibly, but my father was never one to give in to compassion. Through my elementary years I was commanded to make friends with none who could not further my future career, while still remaining courteous enough to the rest, so that when my time came to run for office, support could be easily earned." Palpatine paused, steering the speeder in the direction of the nearby grass land.

Myrah frowned, "I'm not sure I would have been able to follow such strict government from my parents. I lack the self control," she said, and the laugh that followed was strained.

"As do I," Palpatine said, returning a slight smile. "Three quarters into the school year I was expelled from the academy for petty theft and suspected arson- the likes of which resulted in the death of two students and their instructor."

From the corner of his eye, Palpatine could see how tense Myrah had become.

"Surprised?"

"Well…" The woman hesitated, looking down at her hands. "No."

"No?"

She shook her head. "I suppose I could see how that would be possible."

It was Palpatine's turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

"There is something odd about you; something wild." She turned to face him. "You're not tame."

Palpatine thought for a moment, and then smiled, nodding. "I will take that as a compliment. But, to ease your mind, I was not the one who started the fire. I was just the most convenient to blame at the time."

Myrah sat back in the seat and when she spoke Palpatine could hear her relief. "What happened after your expulsion?"

Palpatine was silent as he dipped the speeder down a hill, leveling out when they reached the valley that led to the river. "My father consulted with the headmaster of the institution. I sat quietly by his side as he employed the usual tactics: denial, negotiation, and, finally, bribery. In the end, the status of my expulsion still stood, but on paper it was listed as a mere transference of districts and no one was the wiser."

"Your father must have cared about you a great deal to go through all that trouble."

Palpatine scoffed. "He cared about the reputation of his House. No more, no less. This was something I knew with the utmost certainty, even then."

"Did you ever think you could have been wrong about him? Maybe he was especially hard on you because he believed that you had, I don't know, potential. More than the rest."

Palpatine glanced at her. "Nevertheless, after that, his hand came down harder than ever. He found me another school, and a pattern was formed. By the time I was eleven I had been 'transferred' from eight different academies and my list of offenses had grown to include: Harassment; failure to obey lawful and reasonable orders; intentional activation of fire alarms without present threat; selling of various weaponry such as vibroblades and DC-17 hand blasters; trespassing; and the general disruption of the peace. Misdemeanors, all of them; however, the sheer number of the offenses, combined with how many times each was repeated, was enough to have me throw in a juvenile correctional facility for at least one standard year, if not more."

Myrah shook her head in disbelief. "How did you manage to avoid punishment?"

"Nobility has its perks."

"I see." Myrah bit her lip, her brow wrinkled in thought. "What about your mother?"

Palpatine's confusion was genuine. "What about her?"

"You never mention her. What did she have to say about any of this?"

Palpatine's grip on the wheel tightened and his foot pressed down on the accelerator. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Myrah closed her eyes and gripped either side of the bucket seat. By the time Palpatine looked her way again, her skin had gone an unhealthy shade of gray. He forced a sigh and the speeder slowed back down. Palpatine watched amused as she slowly opened one eye, then another, and then shook her head, trembling.

"You weren't kidding when you said you were afraid of speeders."

The woman shrugged, looking embarrassed. Palpatine, feeling generous, decided to grant her what little was left of her dignity and dropped the subject. He turned a sharp right and sped forward until a tall, domed building could be seen in the distance.

"There is the old theatre. My father and a few of his associates go there on the week nights to plot and drink."

"At a theatre?"

"The _old_ theatre. Instead of plays and opera, the building is now a brothel- for lack of a better word- for Naboo's upper class." Palpatine veered away from the sight after giving Myrah enough time to write down a few notes in the book she carried and mark something on the map.

The two rode in silence for some time before Palpatine finally said, "What's wrong? You look upset."

"No, I'm fine. I was just thinking."

"About?"

"You."

Palpatine looked at her questioningly.

"Well, your family really." She paused. "Your mother, specifically."

Palpatine rolled his eyes. "That's not the most entertaining of subjects."

"Tell me about her."

A second passed, and then Palpatine eased off the accelerator and brought the speeder to a whining halt, leaving them stalled, less than a meter above the ground. He turned in his seat to face her fully.

"Of all the things you could be asking me, you are most interested in my family?" She nodded, provoking him to sigh yet again. "Fine. But, on one condition. I will answer you once more and once more only. After that, it's your turn to give information to me." Palpatine flashed a wicked smile. "Are we clear?"

He watched as she thought it through. "Agreed."

Palpatine nodded and they were off again, heading back through the valley towards the capitol.

"Desme' Palpatine was the youngest daughter of one of Naboo's less known royal houses. After the death of my grandmother, Desme's father- wishing a better life for his favorite child- sought out who was then the head of House Palpatine. In exchange for support in the coming election, as well as a rather generous dowry, Desme' was given in marriage to the senior Palpatine's eldest son- an arrogant, apathetic, abusive boy of twenty one- known by his peers as Cosinga." Palpatine leaned back, relaxing his hold on the wheel, but to his passenger, he kept his face emotionless. "My grandfathers' deal was struck and within a standard week, when my mother was younger than I am now, my parents were wed and House Palpatine became significantly richer. Desme's father was not as fortunant; having in his mind secured a future for his daughter, and with his other children acceptably independent, he chose a beautiful, moonlit night to go for a swim in the lake and never resurfaced." Palpatine paused. "Desme' never got to say goodbye."

The speeder reentered the city, but instead of returning to the crowded highway, Palpatine turned onto a slightly less traveled back road. He pointed to an official looking building, with no windows and one door. "That's the closed café for off-world negotiations. Many politicians go there for black market trading, under the pretence of alien consultations." Palpatine allowed time for Myrah to make her notes and marks, and then proceeded on his way.

"My mother's and father's relationship has always been a strange one," Palpatine continued. "Cosinga, having just reached adulthood by Naboo standards, was power hungry and belligerent. He demanded respect from all around him, but most forcefully so on his young bride." Palpatine fell silent for a moment, and spoke again only when he felt his passenger shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

"Although he would never admit it, and she would be too afraid to confess, what happened on their wedding night was not consensual and, three months later, my mother found herself with child at the age of fifteen."

"Your mother was only fifteen," Myrah said, and when Palpatine glanced her way she shook her head. "That's just… I just assumed your people weren't encouraged to wed until after they served their legal duties to your government. That seems to be rather important here."

Palpatine shrugged, "As I've said before, nobility has its perks." He pointed to an apartment complex up ahead and named off as many of his father's associates as he could remember who resided there. He was surprised at the attention these details received; sharp pricks of suspicion dotted his brain, but he decided to keep silent for a little while longer.

"My father was able to remove Desme' from the Legislative Youth Program, due to her pregnancy with me, which freed my mother from her societal responsibilities, but from that moment on she was locked into a sort of house arrest. Cosinga dictated what she was to do, whom she was to see, and- on the rare occasion she was allowed reprieve from a day inside Convergence- how far she was to journey from the house. By the time I was born my mother had ceased to be Desme'; she was, through and through, merely Lady Palpatine. My father's word became her law and his smiting hand her justice." Palpatine ran his fingers through his hair. "She is his servant. He tolerates her for that."

Through the course of their ride, the sky had grown dark and restless and a storm loomed above. Palpatine took that moment to park under one of the low hanging roofs. He jumped out and ran to open the passenger's side door and extended his hand to Myrah, and the two proceeded in a light jog to the parapets of the sheltered Palace court. The two sat cross-legged on the steps, watching the rain fall over the plaza, cleansing the streets while the pedestrians ran for cover.

"Neither of my parents showed any love for me, at least none that I can remember. From the time I could walk I wanted independence- I guess you could call it the free spirit of a child." At this Palpatine smiled. "My father, as I'm sure you have gathered, wanted a son as malleable as his wife; one that he could mold into the perfect heir. I was no such son. My father, I believe, grew to hate me for that, afraid of what harm I might cause his name." Palpatine smirked. "My mother, on the other hand, was just afraid. One because she felt some strange power moving inside me- something neither she nor my father could control. Another because every time I acted out, my father would see it as some form of disobedience on her part, and she would receive her 'just' reward." Palpatine paused. "Sometimes I dare think she envied me, just as- when I was younger- I pitied her. I hold the fight she can never have, and I will never have to tuck my dreams away."

"That sounds… sad," Myrah said, and he noted the catch in her voice.

"I suppose. Either way, three years later my mother gave birth again, but to a daughter. Two years after that, a son."

"That much I knew," Myrah interjected. "The troupe mine is partnered with has been hired for the entertainment for his entrance into the Legislative program. I suppose that occurs on his birthday?"

Palpatine nodded, "Twelve is a milestone age on this planet. My father couldn't be more pleased."

"Do all of your siblings share your disdain for him?"

"If they do they don't show it. Two years after the birth of my father's second son my second brother was born. Five years after that, my sister." Palpatine smiled. "Out of all of the lot, my hopes are set into the littlest one. But other than that, I couldn't care less about any of them. In my home, I am an unwanted stranger."

The rain was falling harder now and, despite the humidity, the pair was beginning to catch a chill. Myrah yawned and pulled her cloak tighter.

"Thank you for showing me a bit more of your planet. And thank you also for raising more questions about you than I know you will answer."

Palpatine dipped his head. "Perhaps, in due time, more of the mystery will be revealed."

Myrah smiled. "I would hope so. I _still_ never got your name."

"There are many things that you 'haven't got'." Palpatine stretched his legs out and propped up on his elbows. "But now, it's your turn. Tell me about yourself."

Myrah stiffened and Palpatine could almost see a wall building up around her mind. "What do you want to know?"

Palpatine smirked and, when he smiled, there was new light in his pale eyes. "What's your favorite color?"

Myrah paused, and then she laughed along with him. "It's a tie. Between blue and green."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"None."

"What are your parents like?"

"Solidly middle class. But as of now, I cannot say. I broke ties with them long ago."

Palpatine nodded. "For that, I envy you. Do you have any hobbies?"

Myrah thought for a moment, and then shook her head. "Not like you have with racing. I'm a terrible painter, I don't enjoy films, I work at the theatre so when I'm off I don't really want to go back, I hate politics, and I can't afford to vacation." She bit the inside of her jaw, and then her lips parted in a soft sigh. "I'm fairly good at hunting."

Palpatine nodded. "Fair enough. What do you hunt?"

"Whatever is wanted by the highest bidder."

"So you get paid."

"That's sort of my second job."

Palpatine's brow drew together, but he said nothing more on the subject.

"Why is it you chose to come to Naboo? From my father's dealings with the heads of entertainment on Ryloth, I was under the impression that if a being possessed talent, which you obviously do, they could choose which worlds they wished to tour to." He paused, "What lured you here?"

Myrah shrugged. "I'm a great lover of history. Naboo, as I understand it, is sort of a time warp to the past." She smiled. "It's rich, it's beautiful… I find myself wishing to stay here longer."

"So it had nothing to do with your, ah, other line of work?"

Myrah glanced his way. "Not entirely. Besides," she said, offhandidly. "A good friend of mine came to Naboo to study art and found herself a husband. I can't say I would hate to meet the same fate."

Palpatine scoffed. "There are two accounts on which we disagree. My planet is indeed locked in the past, but it could be detrimental for our people if it stays there. We need to expand, despite the fear of losing our anchored traditions." He cracked his knuckles and drew his knees to his chest. "Secondly, I find marriage to be a waste of time."

"You don't believe in love?"

Palpatine thought for a long moment before he responded. "I believe in lust. A primal need, a craving, if you will, between one body and another. As for love… if it exists, I have yet to see it. Or feel it, for that matter."

"That's a rather cold outlook on things, don't you think?"

Palpatine gave her a sideways look. "It's realistic."

"I see." Myrah raised her arms above her head, stretching like a cat. "Is there anything else you wanted to know for now."

"Just one more thing," Palpatine said.

"And that is?"

"How do you know Hego Damask?"

Myrah's head jerked his way, but she quickly recovered herself. "I'm sorry?"

Palpatine nodded his head in the direction of his parked speeder. "When you asked about the origins of the coin around my mirror you seemed, well to put it frankly, revolted. What dealings have you had with the Magister to turn you against him?" Palpatine asked this as much in his own self interest as he did with naked curiosity. If there was something truly wrong with the Muun, it would be best to break ties right off, then to venture farther into the secret partnership.

"No dealings, per say," Myrah said, averting his gaze. "He sought me out not too long ago, when my troupe was entertaining in the swamps of Abraxin. There was a renegade on the loose and the Jedi had been interrogating all the natives and offworlders alike. Not long after two Jedi had left my tent, Damask appeared with questions all his own." Myrah shifted her weight before continuing. "There was just something about him that made me feel uneasy. There was something… dark. Like he was trying to peer into my core, trying to find what he needed inside of me. I've never felt so afraid."

Palpatine made no comment, but merely looked out at the now empty plaza, his mind replaying his own meeting with Damask earlier that day. There had been something different about the Muun, but rather than fear, Palpatine viewed him with a sense of fascination and wonder; hence his agreement to be his spy against the royals sabotage of the coming election. His eyes narrowed. _I guess we'll just have to see what tomorrow holds._

At that moment, Myrah's comlink beeped, and when she put it away she was standing. "I have to be on my way, duty calls."

Palpatine rose as well, dusting the dirt from his trousers as he did so. The rain was starting to let up, but a slight drizzle still patted the cobblestone streets. "I can give you a ride if you want. I mean, it would keep you dryer than traveling on foot."

Myrah smiled kindly, but shook her head. "No, thank you very much, but I have a ride on the way."

Palpatine responded with a slight bow. "So I guess this is where we part ways."

"I guess it is." She looked as if she were about to say something, stopped, then resumed with, "But I hope we meet again soon."

Palpatine laughed, "Oh, I think we will." With a slight wave of her hand, Myrah turned to head in the direction of the plaza. Palpatine was watching her go, arms crossed over his chest, when a sudden spark in his mind caused him to cry out.

"Myrah!"

She turned, looking confused. "Yes?"

It took all the concentration he possessed, but sure enough, the creature living deep within slowly awoke from its slumber. He coaxed it, begged it, to arise. Slightly, ever so slightly the air around him began to churn and a lumbering darkness crept between them. It was a little thing; an event that, if the other had not been accustomed to such subtleties, would have gone completely unnoticed.

However, this was not the case- and he discovered what he yearned to know.

Myrah was alert, her eyes shifting, searching the shadows for the phantom threat. A hand dipped inside her cloak and Palpatine had to force himself not to laugh. Instead, he drew up a mock look of concern. "Myrah? What is it," he said, a slight tremble in his voice. "Are you alright?"

Her eyes locked with his, but Palpatine had already sent the creature crawling back into its den, at the very bottom of his soul. Inside, Palpatine was euphoric, but what he showed the woman was a young, uncertain boy, who was becoming increasingly worried about his new friend.

"Wh…why are you looking at me like that?"

Myrah stood, frozen, then she blinked and shook her head, as if coming out of a daze. "I'm… I'm sorry. I just thought I saw something. That's all."

Palpatine was close to dancing. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Myrah nodded, impatiently. "Yes, I'm fine. Now, what is it you wanted?"

Palpatine smiled, "I can't really remember… I'm sorry."

The woman raised a brow, but whatever she was thinking she kept to herself. "Alright then. Goodbye," she said, and continued on her way.

Palpatine remained on the steps until she had turned the corner, leaving his sight, then he slowly walked back to his speeder, his spirits soaring high.

_So she does have the power after all._

***X*x*X*x*X*x***

That night Palpatine returned to the balcony where he and Myrah had first spoken. Tired, he pulled himself onto the railing, stretched his legs out in front of him, and rested his back against the cool, granite wall. Though his limbs yearned for sleep, his mind refused to rest.

The day had been an unexpected one. He had had a feeling that he would see the woman again- and his feelings were very rarely wrong- and he had also presumed that she would pass his little test.

Which she had.

Perfectly.

Now that he was certain that someone else was playing master to a beast of the soul, the task of finding a way to get her to verbally admit the fact- whether it be literally or through some bold action- was at hand. He was certain he would succeed.

Palpatine sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

_If only it were so simple._

There was still the matter of Hego Damask. Why had the Muun searched him out? How did he know his name? What did Damask see in him that Palpatine could not see himself? What had made the Muun deem Palpatine worthy of such an exquisite gift as the coin he had given him that day? What was the Muun hiding and what would Palpatine have to do to uncover his secrets?

_And what in the world_, Palpatine thought. _Has possessed me to give out so many free speeder rides lately?_

All these things and more were rushing through Palpatine's head as he laid himself down to sleep, creeping their way into his dreams, and materializing in his nightmares.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**And thus concludes chapter two!  
Please, beg pardon for the slowness of an update, they should become quicker soon.  
Also, I apologize for any punctuation/tense errors. I'm currently looking for a beta. =^.^=**

**I hope you enjoyed what you read! Feel free to drop a Review, it's always appreciated!**


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